


Henry and the Ink Machine

by harrylee94



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: and waffling, bendy left 30 years ago, it feels like I'm waffling, lots of ink, not henry, reverse batim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrylee94/pseuds/harrylee94
Summary: Bendy, having been living in the human world for the past 30 years, received a note from his creator, and is lured back to his once home. But what will he find there? And will he ever leave again?





	1. Bendy, My Devil Darling

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bendy and the ink machine role reversal AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/302088) by thelostmoongazer. 
  * Inspired by [i was thinking about the role reversal au a lot this morning](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/302091) by thelostmoongazer. 
  * Inspired by [Reversal Role AU (thelostmoongazer's)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/302094) by the-vampire-inside-me. 



> Guys... I am speechless. I went out with a friend this evening and came back to find over 100 notes on [this particular story thread](https://harrylee94writes.tumblr.com/post/161930821124/henry-and-the-ink-machine-part-1) (and that number keeps growing)!
> 
> This is based a lot on [The Lost Moongazer's](http://thelostmoongazer.tumblr.com/) AU, to whom I will be eternally grateful for this wonderful plot bunny.

_Bendy, my devil darling,_

_It’s been so long since you left home; almost 30 years, hasn’t it? Your family is still waiting for you. We don’t want something bad to happen because you ignored them, so we?_

_We all miss you terribly._

_Your creator,_

_Joey Drew._

* * *

Bendy stared at the letter, the horror he had first felt at its presence a dull ache in his chest now as he stood before SillyVision’s front doors.

When he’d first received the note he could barely keep himself from quaking in fear, fingers crumpling the paper as ink dribbled down his face, staining his coat and scarf. Joey Drew. It was a name he could have gone his entire life never hearing again, and yet there it was, written in black and white. He thought he’d been so careful, wearing disguises wherever he went, living on the street, never leaving a trail.

And yet it clearly hadn’t been enough. He’d been discovered, found, and he knew he had to go back.

When he’d first escaped Joey’s grasp Bendy had hoped that Boris and Alice would follow behind him, but he had grown to accept that Boris would never leave, the wolf only ever seeing the best in people, and Alice wouldn’t leave him to face Joey alone. It had broken his heart to do it, but Bendy had had to leave. He knew that if he stayed then he would lose his mind.

And yet here he was, standing in front of the doors he’d promised himself he would never enter again. All because of the note in his hands.

The building was much more dilapidated than he remembered it ever being before, with boarded up windows, the sign broken and missing several letters, and overgrown plants sticking out from gaps in the brickwork. The once immaculate lawn and clean pavement were now infested with weeds and cracks, and it looked like a part of the roof had caved in.

Bendy had heard that the company had gone under, but he hadn’t realised it had been this bad.

Taking a deep breath, the dancing demon stepped up to the door and pushed it open, wincing a little at the creak of old wood and rusty hinges.

“ _A-alright Joey,_ ” he muttered into the dark interior, trying to keep himself from shaking too much, “ _I’m here. What do you w-want from me?_ ”

Stepping in, he closed the door behind him and looked around the corridor. There were posters on the walls displaying his image; The Dancing Demon, and Sheep Songs with Boris the Wolf. There was something dripping from the ceiling, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was, and the floor looked like it had been repaired a time or two.

What the hell had they been doing here?

Stepping further into the building, Bendy found it wasn’t quite as dark as he had first thought; light came from above a desk in the centre of a sparse yet dilapidated room – one he could remember only too well – as a projector flashed blank slides against a wall where a cardboard cut-out of him leaned against the wall. Paper littered the floor, cracks and holes in the wall were boarded up ineffectively, and the whole place felt more like a ghost house than an animation studio.

“ _H-hello?_ ” Bendy called, slowly walking around the various corridors and looking at the papers stuck to the walls. “ _Is anyone here?_ ”

Silence and turning gears were his reply, and he found himself following a route he had once known so well.

At the end of a corridor sat a drawing desk, a chair, and a stool, the stairs behind it boarded up – probably to prevent people from running into the collapsed roof – and on that desk sat dozens and dozens of animation slides, images of Boris and Alice… and of Bendy. On the walls surrounding the desk, there were numerous doodles, some drawn by sure and experienced hands, and others by shaky new ones.

This was Henry’s desk. The animator had spent hours upon hours sat at this desk, scratching away at the panels and slides for the next episode, and Bendy would sit on the stool in the corner and doodle, just to keep the man company sometimes.

Black tears pooled in the corners of Bendy’s eyes as he thought of those times, of the man who had treated him so well, and couldn’t help but feel guilty. He’d barely thought of the humans in the studio over the years, most of them having ignored him, but Henry had always been so nice, treating them as people, rather than things.

What had happened to him? Had he escaped, or had he been trapped here like the others? And where was everyone?

Shaking himself and wiping his face with a well-worn sleeve, Bendy noticed a spanner in the corner, which was odd as he couldn’t remember Henry having anything to do with mechanics. Picking it up, Bendy decided to take it away, only to notice that he recognised it. It was the same spanner that Joey had used to ‘appease’ him. But what was it doing here?

Whatever the reason, he wasn’t going to let it spoil Henry’s space any longer, and he moved away, letting his eyes linger even as his body pulled him back into the main room.

His body still remembered this place, even after so much time had passed. It was still a part of him – part of his ink – and he doubted he would ever be able to shake it. He was created here after all.

As he headed down another corridor, he froze. “ _What…?_ ”

Across the wall before him three words had been written in thick, deep black; DREAMS COME TRUE. Why would someone write that? And why was there ink dripping from the ceiling? Was that what had been by the front door?

What had happened after he’d left?

Continuing on his way, Bendy soon found himself facing… It. The Thing that had brought him into this place. The Ink Machine.

For the first time he could remember, it was silent, and the only sounds Bendy could hear was his own footsteps and music from a locked office.

Wait.

“ _Hello?_ ” Bendy called, banging his fist on the door. “ _Is anybody in there? Hello!_ ”

The door shook a little, but the music continued to play, and the light under the door glowed undisturbed. Maybe there wasn’t anyone here after all.

Continuing on, Bendy avoided That Room and continued on, still clutching the spanner as a makeshift weapon as he trudged his way through the halls, glaring at the book Joey had raved about writing as he passed it, only to jump when a wooden board fell from the ceiling, only to land with a loud ‘dunk’ on the floor.

He could barely breathe for several moments, pressed against the wall as his eyes searched for any other dangers as he quivered, heart racing. As time passed, he became more and more aware that it seemed to have fallen on its own accord, and he took a steadying breath to calm himself down.

“ _It was nothing,_ ” he told himself, forcing himself to walk further forward. “ _It was just a plank. It wasn’t… it… wasn’t…_ ” He choked, eyes wide as he stared at the familiar figure strapped to a table. “ _B-B-Boris?_ ”

No. No, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t… not him. Not Boris.

But it was. It was the tall, dungaree wearing wolf. It was _him_ that was strapped to the table. _Boris_ who’s chest was ripped open and gapingly empty. And he hadn’t been there to stop it.

Bendy choked, stepping closer, swaying on his feet as he approached, and reached out for him. “ _B-Boris,_ ” he choked, his throat constricting as his scarf grew ever darker from his tears, and he stumbled, collapsing to his hands and knees as his fingers brushed at the wolf’s feet. “ _Boris, I’m s-so sorry! I didn’t… I didn’t… I should n-never have left! I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t…_ ”

This… this wasn’t making any sense. Boris shouldn’t be like this. No matter what happened, if one of the toons was hurt in any way, then if they got enough ink…

Bendy’s mind stuttered to a halt, and he stared blankly at the floor.

Ink. The Ink Machine. That had to be it! It was silent, off, broken, he didn’t know what, but if he managed to fix it, then maybe, _maybe_ , he could save Boris! Yes. Yes, he’d have to get the Machine to work again… and then everything would be alright again.

Fingers curling, the ‘Dancing Demon’ found himself looking down at the spanner, and clutched it tight to his chest. The offerings. Of course. If the spanner had been hidden, then maybe the others had been too. In fact, that book had been one of them he was sure.

Pulling himself to his feet, Bendy wiped at his eyes and gave Boris a look of determination. “ _I’m gonna save ya buddy,_ ” he said. “ _I’m gonna get you outta here. You’ll see._ ”

Clutching tight to the spanner, he took a quick look around the room, shuddering at the WHO’S LAUGHING NOW? lettering on the wall before finding an ink well and pen on a shelf. That was two. Were all six missing then?

Making the trek around the corner to the break room, he found that all pedestals were empty. It was eerie. He’d never seen them all empty before. He remembered playing with the squeaky doll a few times before, though Joey had always told him off for it, and Sammy had – with great reluctance – shown him what the record was, but almost always the pedestals had things on them.

Standing on his toes, Bendy placed the spanner and the ink well in their appropriate spots, looking at each of the others before heading out again in search of holy cream on a cracker! Was that always there?

Bendy stared at the cardboard cut-out of himself in trepidation, unsure of who put it there, or why – beyond scaring the bajesus out of him that was.

“ _Hello?_ ” he called again, edging closer to the cut-out, looking around for any sign of the one who’d put it there. “ _Joey? ‘S that you?_ ” Once again, nothing. Seconds slowly passed and Bendy sighed, stepping past his image. “ _I don’t smile that much,_ ” he muttered and headed over to the table to collect the Book, only to notice Sammy’s record beside it.

After that, it was a bit of a scavenger hunt for the last two items. He searched through storage rooms, the small theatre, one or two of the offices that were open, and even the main area before he found the squeaky Bendy toy on a chair off to the side.

It still held its squeak, though it did wheeze a little now, and as he held it, he couldn’t help but think of the first time he’d seen it, sitting there, looking almost exactly like him. That was the day he’d discovered he was famous, that kids all across America loved him, and that some of them wanted toys of him so they could pretend he was real.

Which of course had confused the hell out of him. He was real, wasn’t he? He had arms and legs and a body and a head, he could feel things and talk. That meant he was real, right?

And then Joey had told him. Told him the truth. That he was a cartoon, a thing, something that had been made, and that Joey was his creator. Bendy had run away from him then, wanting to hide from the hurtful words, and ended up hiding in Henry’s corner.

Henry, of course, kept him hidden from Joey for the rest of the day, holding him and comforting him with soothing words and hands, telling him that being a cartoon didn’t make Bendy any less real than he or Joey was. That night, the toon had fallen asleep in the animator’s arms, more at peace than he thought he ever would be again.

Bendy had always loved Henry’s hands. They were rough, ink stained, and strong, but always, always, gentle. They were the best hands, and he’d found himself remembering them on odd occasions over the past years.

Though clearly not enough.

With a shake of his head, the Dancing Demon dropped the toy into his pocket before heading towards the last room.


	2. The Ink Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bendy fixes the Ink Machine.

The Ink Machine had always been running, churning out an ever flowing supply of ink for reasons Bendy never really fully understood, making an ever present churning clanking noise and, every so often, breaking, meaning someone would have to fix it and ink would just spill everywhere. No one liked that room, not even the toons. No one except for Joey that was.

He used to spend hours in there, staring at the machine like it was some kind of miracle. Sure, it had brought the cartoons he and Henry had created to life, brought Bendy into the human world, but it was still just a machine really. Bendy didn’t want to know what exactly it was that had brought him to life, but the Ink Machine had always felt… wrong somehow.

Now though it sat there, silent, with no sign of a mechanic, and no Joey, just a shell of what it used to be, and yet all the more frightening. He had once wondered how it had made so much ink, but now he didn’t care; he just wanted to save Boris.

Taking a steadying breath, Bendy stepped into the room, his boot making a dull _thunk_ against the bare floorboards. He had to find that last ‘offering’, even if that meant entering this nightmare of a room.

Just like every other room, it was lit only by artificial light, the floorboards were splattered with patched of ink, and there were pages of sketches pinned and stuck to the wall. The main difference, of course, was the monstrosity that sat in the centre under blackened pipes. It almost looked like an overweight elephant with a trunk ready to spurt water everywhere. Or some backwards sort of vacuum cleaner.

Shifting Sammy’s record and Joey’s ‘book’ to one hand, Bendy carefully started to trudge his way around the machine, not wanting to take his eyes off of it in case it – impossibly – started to work, but also knowing he had to find the last item. With a great reluctance, the toon forced himself to look away from the dreaded machine, searching the area for that missing cog.

Luckily, it didn’t take him very long, as it was sitting propped up against the wall behind the doorframe. It meant he had to do a bit of a juggling act with the record and book in order to carry everything, but Bendy was able to leave the room quickly, trotting back to the Break Room once more to finish setting everything up.

The book, record and cog were all easy enough to place back on their pedestals, but it took Bendy some time to put the toy in place. It wasn’t that he couldn’t or anything like that, he _was_ tall enough, but it reminded him of some many good things. It reminded him of when he’d first been created, of playing pranks, or sitting in Henry’s corner and drawing. It reminded him of better times, more innocent times. Times where he didn’t wear worn out coats or live on the streets.

With a shudder and a sniff, Bendy shook himself and, squeezing the toy one last time, he placed it in it’s spot.

As soon as the toy touched the pedestal, there was an empty clunk and the notice next to the lever suddenly started flashing the words ‘Low Pressure’.

“ _You’ve gotta be kidding!_ ” Bendy huffed, trying to think of what to do. He could remember seeing another button in the projection room, maybe that was what he had to press.

With a huff of annoyance, the Dancing Demon made his way back through the winding halls, wondering where all the windows had gone and trying desperately not to think of Boris. When he finally reached the projection room he sighed, walking across the room to-

The projector turned on, showing a simple sketch of Bendy dancing as slow music played.

The real Bendy tripped several steps backwards and fell on his backside, breathing in sudden gasps. “ _Who’s there?!_ ” he demanded shakily. “ _C-come out! I know y-yer there!_ ”

There was a click, and Bendy tensed even further, but then there was nothing. Shivering in place for several long seconds, the cartoon dancing against the wall, the live toon waited, then slowly rose to his feet, stepping slowly, cautiously, around the projector, ready to run at a moment’s notice, only to stare at the empty space in confusion.

Nothing. No one. Just the ink stained floor and a button on the wall.

A button that had clearly just been pressed.

“ _… Ha… haha,_ ” he chuckled as he stepped away, looking around nervously. “ _Very funny. Y-ya got me._ ” Clutching at his scarf, Bendy stumbled quickly out of the room, running, sprinting, as he looked frantically at everything, jumping at the cut-outs of himself, cringing nervously away from the pumping pipes, whimpering as he passed Boris’s exposed body before all but jumping through the Break Room and pulling the lever.

The lights immediately turned off, and for a moment Bendy was trapped in a thick darkness, his heart beating rapidly in his throat as his breaths came in fast uneven puffs, but then the ones in the hallways flickered and blazed back into life.

Not wasting another second, Bendy fled the room, running back to Boris’s side… only to find that the ink he was getting wasn’t enough. It kept spurting out of the cavity that was his chest, dribbling down to pool on the floor. “ _No no no, ye’ve gotta get better B-Boris!,_ ” Bendy begged. “ _C’mon! You gotta… Please!_ ”

Ink splattered in his face and Boris remained silent. “ _… M-more ink,_ ” the little toon muttered. “ _I need… more ink._ ” He nodded to himself, stepping backwards, eyes fixed on Boris’s body as the ink dribbled down his cheek. “ _I’ll get more. I will._ ”

From the Ink Machine. He would do it. For Boris.

Following the familiar yet forgotten sound of the churning of the Machine’s gears, Bendy almost ran into the boards that had suddenly blocked the door, his mind too full of thoughts of misery and helplessness, but at the last second, just before he touched them, he blinked.

“ _What? But, these weren’t…_ ”

Reaching out, he made to touch the boards, but then an unearthly screech grated in his ears, sending him back several steps… just in time to narrowly dodge a long, clawed hand as a monster reached out from him.

Instincts and adrenalin kicking in, Bendy fled, eyes wide as he dodged the ink suddenly pouring from the ceiling, splashing in flooded corridors , all thoughts of Boris vanishing as he tried to escape, heading directly to the exit. When at last he reached the entrance hall, he couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

But it only left him breathless as the floor fell out from under him, falling down one, three, too many floors, and landing heavily on solid panelled flooring.

Bendy coughed, winded and aching, and wheezed as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. He didn’t recognise this room, with the door blocked by a selection of chairs and a chest of drawers, but knowing his luck so far, it was probably the way out.

Heaving himself to his feet, the toon looked up at the way he’d fallen, and was surprised to find that it was actually a well-constructed tunnel. Had this… been planned? But, then that would mean that Joey… and that Boris…

Bendy shook himself, forcing panic and tears back as he pushed onwards, following the path onwards. It seemed to be leading him down, though to where he did not know, until he reached what seemed to be a dead end. Another doorway boarded up for apparently no reason, and there were no gaps big enough for Bendy to fit through. Once upon a time he might have been able to, but spending so much time in the human world did things to a toon.

Perhaps there was something he could… Oh _again_ with the writing on the walls? This time it was simply HE LIED TO US. It made Bendy want to shiver in shame, but he had more important things to do.

Like getting that axe on the wall!

“ _This will sure come in handy,_ ” he muttered, lifting it down from the hooks and giving it an experimental swing or two. With a nod to himself he turned towards the boarded up doorway and started hacking away.

Wood splintered and cracked, pieces falling away and giving Bendy enough space to walk through, heading further in to the mysterious area as he eyed the candles still lit in the corners warily. Unfortunately, when he reached the last door, he had to jump a bit to reach all the boards, but he managed to free it in the end.

When he opened it though, what he found was… was…

“ _H-Henry?_ ” he stuttered, axe falling from his fingers as he stared at the figure before him.

“ **… You shouldn’t have come back.** ”


	3. Before He Finds You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An obscure warning.

Bendy shivered, eyes wide as he stared at the figure he had once known so well.

It was Henry, that much was clear from his height, from the clothes he wore, the shape of his jaw, even the way his teeth sat in his slightly open mouth. The toon recognised the stubble pattern, and the way his hair sat on his head, but his legs, his hands, his eyes…

During his time in the human world Bendy had once seen one of those Disney movies. It had come out a few years before he’d left SillyVision, but there had been summer reruns at the cinemas sometimes, and he’d decided to spend the few cents for a ticket. It had been in colour, which was surprising for him as he’d never seen a colour film before, and the music was amazing, but there had been one part that had stuck with him.

There had been a section in it about dinosaurs, these huge lizard-like creatures that with the most bizarre music he’d ever heard made by an orchestra at the time, and it had been both fascinating and terrifying. At first he'd thought it was amazing, but then things just kept going wrong, first with the T-Rex that ate the slow one, and then with all the water dried up. That was what he was remembering now. The part where the dinosaurs had become stuck in the tar pits.

That's what Henry looked like. It looked like someone had dropped a bucket of the stuff on his head and it was sticking to his arms and lower legs. It seemed to ooze off of him, and yet it never ran out. It covered his nose, his eyes, his ears... his hands. It clung to him, seemed almost like rubber, but it dripped and drooped, like ice cream on a hot day.

Bendy whimpered, tears forming in his eyes as he felt his stomach churn. " _Henry... wha-what happened to you?_ "

The man - could he call him a man any more? - stepped closer, and the Dancing Demon suddenly noticed how even the shirt he was wearing seemed to have melted.

" **Go,** " he said, or wheezed. " **I can't let you pass. Go.** "

Bendy shook his head, taking a step forward, trembling hand reaching towards the animator as tears began to slip down his cheeks. " _H-Henry..._ "

The man shifted backwards, leaving a thick dollop of ink behind, and the toon could see his fingers curling into a fist, even if he couldn't see those familiar calloused tips beneath the oozing black. " **Don't,** " he... bubbled. " **Go. You have to go.** "

" _I can't! Not without Boris! Not without you!_ " He took another step closer. Henry took another one away.

" **Stop. Stop, plEase. You Can't heLp us. wE caN't leAve...** "

Much to Bendy's horror, Henry seemed to be becoming more and more agitated the closer he got, and the more agitated he got, the more his voice became garbled, blurred, as the ink seemed to cascade off of him into thick puddles on the ground.

He took another step forwards, stepping out of reach of the axe. Henry took another step back, leaving a trail that slowly sunk through the floorboards.

" _Henry,_ " Bendy soothed, both his hands held out to show he meant the man no harm. " _Ya need t' calm down._ "

Henry's form had started to quiver, and more and more ink dropped onto the floor as he reached out to the wall to keep himself stable. " **You sHoulDn't Be hEre,** " he gurgled, voice growing higher, breaking, popping almost. " **WhY diD yOu come? YOu haVe to Go. LeAve. LeaVe! _LeaVE!_** "

" _I'm... I can't leave you l-like this!_ " Bendy exclaimed, taking several steps forwards and grasping at Henry's shirt before he had the chance to slip away again, only to gasp at the texture. It didn't feel like fabric any more - not exactly - but more like heavily oiled leather... Like skin.

Suddenly, ink slicked hands grasped at his wrists and he was forced to look up into a half hidden face. " **YoU dOn't uNderStand! It's A tRap! GEt out Of thIs hELl holE and NeveR loOk bAcK!** "

The toon shook his head as he struggled against the sticky grip. " _I can't! Henry, lemme go!_ " he exclaimed. " _B-Boris, he's strapped to that table upstairs! An... And you... I can't leave ya Henry!_ "

" _ **YoU aLReadY diD!**_ "

Bendy froze, his body growing slack. " _I... I didn't-_ "

" **You goT oUt,** " Henry replied, his grip relaxing a little as his volume lowered, the ink becoming more viscous and dripping less and less from his limbs. " **You escaPed. He didn'T get you. You havE to go. You have To. He'll get yOu too!** "

" _Who?_ " Bendy asked, pressing against his old friend. " _Henry, yer not makin' any sense._ "

Henry ducked and turned his head, and the toon knew that if he could see his eyes, they'd have been screwed shut.

" _Henry..._ "

The man shook his head.

" _Henry, please..._ "

The man took a shuddering breath, then pushed Bendy away, sending him stumbling back until he tripped over the axe.

" **Leave,** " the inky animator repeated, his voice firm, yet somehow filled with fear, " **before he finds you.** " And with those words he turned and left, leaving Bendy to stare silently after him.

" _... Before **who** finds me?_ "


	4. Corridor of Ink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for all your comments so far, it's been amazing!  
> Sorry this has taken so long, and for it's shortness; I've recently gotten a new job, so things have been a bit slow.

He didn't know how long he stood there, but at some point Bendy managed to pull himself together, picking the axe from the floor once again as he stared down the corridor Henry had disappeared down.

Oh God, Henry. What happened to you? How was this possible? Had there been some... some accident with the Ink Machine? Was that why he was so (drowned) covered in that sludge? Did Joey have anything to do with this. Was Joey this mysterious 'he'? And he still didn't know what had happened to Boris, or who had done it. There were too many questions, and now no one to answer them, just candles and devil circles and empty coffins. And who the hell would want to make devil circles or coffins? None of this was making any sense!

Just as he made to step onwards though, there was a crash from behind, and Bendy jumped out of the way as something in the corridor came crashing down. Burying his head under his arms, he waited with eyes shut tight, until the noise subsided, and it seemed that whatever disaster had happened was over. Fingers wrapped tight around the axe, the toon stepped back the way he came, only to find that the ceiling had collapsed, making it even more difficult for him to return, to follow Henry's instructions.

" _I'm sorry Henry,_ " he muttered, looking over the splintered piled of wood and the look or rock and mud above. " _Guess I'm followin' after ya._ "

Going through the room of coffins once again, Bendy made his way through the open door on the other side, glancing briefly at the 'Utility Shaft 9' sign that had been nailed above the entrance of yet more downwards stairs, before having to hold back a groan at the 'HE WILL RETURN TO SET US FREE' painted on the wall before him, with another cut-out of yours truly. There were also bowls of... potatoes? And a banjo to the side, along with some cans of Bacon Soup, which Bendy was quite tempted to pocket; from what he could remember, they didn't taste the best, but food was food after all.

However, as he turned further into the building, he found himself surprised at just how much there was. Sure Joey had mentioned something about expanding a few times, but he hadn't expected _this_! How many floors did this place have? Was this even safe? What could that man have been thinking?

" _Henry?_ " Bendy called out, stepping further in, ignoring more cut-outs and coffins and devil circles. " _Henry, are you there?_ "

There was no answer, but something did catch his eye.

A cassette player was sat against the wall, conveniently placed between several candles, just waiting to be played. It felt like a trap, or at least a very bad thing to do, but Bendy couldn't help it; he was drawn to be curious after all. When his finger pressed down on the button, he couldn't help but blink in surprise at the familiar, if crackly, voice.

" _He appears the shadows to rain his sweet blessings upon_ _me,_ " came the voice - came Sammy Lawrence's voice -  a voice that sounded sane, yet spoke gibberish. " _The figure of ink that shines in the darkness. I see you my saviour. I pray you hear me. Those old songs. Yes, I still sing them. For I know you are coming to save me. And I will be swept into your final loving embrace. But, love requires sacrifice. Can I get an amen?_ "

Stepping away, Bendy shook his head. That didn't sound like Sammy. Well, it did, but he would _never_ have said those-

"I said; can I get an amen?"

Tensing, Bendy spun around, axe held ready at his side as his eyes searched everywhere for the source. " _S-Sammy?_ "

No one. There was no one there. Of course there wasn't. He didn't know why he was expecting any different. Grip growing tight on the axe, Bendy stepped away from the cassette player, shoulders hunched and brow furrowed as he tried to find the voice.

His search eventually led him past one of the cut-outs, and down to a corridor that was flooded with ink. Hesitating, the toon looked over the sludgy substance in trepidation, then back the way he came, before sighing and stepping in.

It felt cold, and yet like water, though he knew it would stick to him like tar, even as it ran through what could be considered his veins like blood. He shivered at its touch, trudging his way through it, past the broken wooden crates and boards that sat abandoned, leaning against the walls.

As he walked, and the sloshing of the ink echoing down the halls, he heard footsteps coming from ahead, and looked up in time to see an inky figure pass the doorway carrying a cut-out.

“ _Henry?_ ” he called. “ _Henry, is that you?... Sammy? Wait. Wait!_ ” The figure moved out of sight as Bendy continued to struggle against the ink, however, when he reached the end, all he found was another wall, covered in a devil circle, and a shelf lined with cans of bacon soup. “ _What the-? That doesn’t make any sense!_ ”

Not any human sense at least.

“ _Joey, what happened here?_ ”


	5. Saviour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long guys, but I hope you enjoy the chapter :)

Bendy decided that he hated locked doors. He'd never really liked them in the first place, but then he'd never had to scour several rooms to press three random buttons to open one before. That was just over the top, and stupid. In other words, it seemed to suit Joey perfectly, considering what he'd been seeing of the Studio so far. Once all the buttons had been found, and the lever pulled, the grate that had been blocking the way finally rumbled to life, rolling up and out of the doorway.

" _Took long enough,_ " he muttered, shifting the axe in his hands so that it rested on his shoulder, and stepped though.

Of course, there was yet another blocked doorway behind this one, and Bendy had to stifle a groan. At least this one was easy enough to get through.

Boards cracked and splintered under the swings of his axe, and he found himself walking into the Music Department. He had to blink a few times to make sure he actually seeing things right, as he was sure this place had been several floors higher than it was now, but it really was true; the records were still on the walls, the posters, the lights. There was even several inky sets of smudged, inky hand prints on the wall, where he, Boris, and Alice had decided to leave their marks. Sammy hadn't been very impressed, and had tried to wipe it away, but Henry had stopped him before he could get too far.

Henry... God, Henry!

" _Henry!_ " the toon called, looking around the area to see if he could find the man. " _Henry, where are ya?!_ "

He walked over to the stairs - the ones that led further down - but stopped and frowned when he found the door at the bottom completely blocked off by at least a foot of ink. Where did it all come from? He'd have to drain it somehow if he wanted to get any further that way, and knowing his luck, he probably did. Ah would you look at that, it was the Exit (at least according to the sign nailed to it). Typical.

With a great sigh he turned back around and started to head towards the Recording Studio. Honestly, this place wasn't making... Are those ink puddles... bubbling?

Cautiously, he approached, holding his axe at the ready. Edging closer and closer, he soon reached the end of the puddle, looking down at it, body tense as he tried to keep himself from shaking. " _Nothing to be scared of,_ " he muttered to himself as he looked down at the bubbles. " _Just a bit of..._ " He poked the puddle with his foot.

A hand shot out from the puddle - an abnormally thin, black, clawed hand - and wrapped itself around Bendy's ankle, covering it in slick ink before he had the chance to stumble away, eyes wide in shock. Another hand - claw - stretched out from the puddle, followed by spindly arms, and then two more from another puddle nearby, and another, and another.

" _Wh-what the-?!_ " he shook the hand from his leg and swung the axe in warning. “ _Stay back! S-stay away!_ ”

A head-like mass pushed its way out of the first puddle, and Bendy could feel it looking at him. For a moment it continued to pull itself out, staring at the toon as he shook, axe held over his shoulder in preparation for a swing, before it's mouth opened, and intangible mass splitting in two like taffy. " _ **M-my l-l-lord!**_ "

" _ **My l-lord?**_ " another repeated as it pulled itself closer, pushing Bendy back in fright.

" _ **S-saviour!**_ "

" _ **Our sa-aviour!**_ "

" _ **S-save usss!**_ "

" _ **Sav-viour!**_ "

“ ** _Amen._** ”

“ ** _P-please! My lord!_** ”

What were… he couldn’t… stop… Stop. “ _Stop!_ ”

Without thinking, Bendy swung his axe, slicing through the closest reaching figure and it dispersed into the puddle it had once been, and dribbled through the floorboards. The others paused again, staring at what he had done.

“ _I… I didn’t-_ ” he stuttered, but had to duck away as one of the creatures swung it’s claws at him.

“ ** _Why?_** ” it demanded. “ ** _Sssave usss!_** ”

“ ** _Lord and-d ssav-viour!_** ”

“ ** _Freeee usss!_** ”

Bendy swung again, taking out another two as they tried to reach for him, his fear taking control, rational thought vanishing as all he could see was hands, reaching, scratching, wanting him. “ _No, no, no, no. no…_ ”

He kept swinging, his eyes closed as the moaning voices grew steadily quieter and quieter, until at last the room fell silent again. He swung the axe several more times, but when it sliced through nothing more than air, he slowly opened his eyes again.

The room was empty, the puddles of ink now nothing more than vanishing stains between the floorboards, like they’d never even existed. But they had. He could still feel those inky fingers around his ankle, their croaking voices still ringing in his ears, and his axe was stained black.

“ _Oh… oh g-god,_ ” Bendy sobbed, collapsing onto his knees, the bruises from earlier stinging as his fingers let the axe slip to the floor. “ _What have I done?_ ”


	6. Where's Wally's Keys?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bendy continues to search for a way out, but the Studio is leading him on a merry chase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a very long chapter I'm afraid, and I know it's been a while, but I don't have a lot of time to write today. hope you enjoy it all the same :)

Bendy didn’t move from his spot for some time after those… ink creatures had appeared, at first numb and disorientated, confused at what had happened, afraid of what he’d done, but then growing calm and wary of what else this studio would bring to light. His once home had turned into a house of horrors, and he wanted to know how, and why.

Heaving himself to his feet, the toon, stepped back into the stairwell again, looking down at the pool of ink that had drowned the exit with a sigh. There was, however, a lever just to his left which he’d failed to notice before, and he pulled at it. A whir of electricity buzzed through the walls, alerting him to a consequence to the action, but he was unsure as to what it was exactly. Drawing the axe to his shoulder once again, Bendy stepped out into the Music Department, eying every speck of black with unease and trepidation.

Slowly at first, but with increasing tempo and volume, a music recording began to play from one of the nearby radios, something that unnerved Bendy to no end, but he soon came across a door that had previously been blocked. Looking through it, the toon found himself confronted by a long corridor, lined with pathways and doors leading off on either side. He couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding as he looked down it, which undoubtedly meant that he would have to travel down it sooner or later.

Sooner would probably be better than later.

“ _Stupid studio,_ ” Bendy muttered to himself, then started his way down the corridor.

There was an organ in the first room to the right, something the toon could remember playing with in the early days, and another office further along, but the corridor that would have once led to the elevators to the left had been completely blocked off with a pile of broken furniture and wood.

Then he came to the end of the hallway, and he could see the pump switch just below yet more haunting words, through the window in the office beyond – Sammy Lawrence’s office – but, wouldn’t you know it, there was a leak blocking the door.

“ _Is anything going to go right for me today?_ ” he asked the air as he glared up at the pipe that was spilling the ink onto the floor. The world really must hate him for all of this to have happened. With a scan, he searched the area, trying to find something that could help, when he spotted another cassette player on a shelf. Once again, he felt the need to listen to it, and he reached out for the play button.

“ _So I go to get my dust pan from the closet the other day,_ ” came a familiar New York drawl, and Bendy couldn’t help but smile. Wally Franks had always been fun to play pranks on, because he always got them, “ _and guess what? I can’t find my stupid keys. It’s like they disappeared into thin air or something. All I can think of is that they must have fallen into one of the garbage cans as I was making my rounds last week. I just hope nobody tells Sammy. Because if he finds out I lost my keys again, I’m out of here._ ”

Keys huh? Well, if good old Wally _had_ been sacked (and Bendy couldn’t help but hope he was, considering what this place had become), then they should be able to find them.

Searching through the rooms, checking through every garbage can, Bendy soon found what he was looking for in the corner of the main area, and quickly marched back to the end of the corridor again. He wasn’t sure if that meant Wally had gotten out, or had never had the chance to get his keys though.

The door the keys unlocked, the one on the opposite side of to the office door, led to Wally’s cleaning cupboard, and Bendy looked around, trying to see if he could find a rag or something to block up the leaking pipe, but instead he found yet another cassette player. “ _What is it with all of these things?_ ”

Pressing play, Bendy paid close attention to the recording, listening to a much more sane sounding Sammy as he waxed poetic about some strange sort of musical lock to his sanctuary – whatever that was supposed to mean – and tried to figure out how randomly playing some instruments in a certain order was supposed to be a song, let alone Sammy’s favourite. Maybe he wasn’t as sane as he’d thought, if this was what he’d started to talk about.

Deciding to investigate the room for that potential rag, Bendy decided that this ‘sanctuary’ should only be a last resort, especially considering this place seemed to be full of complete nonsense and nightmares. God, he hoped Henry hadn’t fallen insane like Sammy had.


	7. Sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bendy finally manages to get to Sammy's Sanctuary, even if it does have an overly complicated lock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! At last! Won't be long until we've caught up with the game...

Bendy ended up playing Sammy’s recording again, the place having a surprising lack of rags, sponges, cloths or anything that could potentially clean up any of the inky messes that were bound to have happened with an ink machine in the building, _or_ anything to reach them in the first place (seriously, where were all the ladders in this place?) and payed particular attention to whatever garbage Sammy had said in his message. Apparently the ‘sanctuary’ could only be found through playing that random tune, which was frankly ridiculous, but it seemed to be the only way forwards.

Backtracking was not preferable, but it was an unfortunate necessity, and he soon found himself in the recording studio once again, making an absolute racket, only for nothing to happen.

“ _… Come on,_ ” he muttered as he stood before the shuttered door. “ _I played your stinkin’ tune, now let me in!_ ” He waited for a few more moments, only for nothing to occur, and he kicked the shutters for good measure, just in case. “ _What’m I missin’?_ ”

He looked around the room, into the voice recording booth, under the chairs, at the instruments (which were surprisingly well tuned considering the state of the place), at the scores of music on the stands, even going so far as to listen to that recording again, before he finally realised that he was standing in what was essentially a projection room. He rubbed a hand over his face and groaned, annoyed at his own stupidity.

Sammy had always, _always_ , recorded the soundtracks to the cartoons with it projected in the background, just to make sure it was all in time and that he didn’t have to make any drastic alterations. The projector itself was still sitting in the room above that overlooked the orchestra and would be easy enough to access, but Bendy dragged his feet the entire way, grumbling at Sammy’s insanity and his own idiocy, before turning the projector on. He was half way through dragging himself back through the doors to the recording room when the projector conveniently turned itself off.

“ _You’ve gotta be kidding me,_ ” the toon moaned, and turned back around to turn it on again. This time, he all but ran back down the stairs and played out that awful tune, just a moment before the projector turned itself off again. A moment later, a strange clicking and whirring brought his attention back to the shuttered door, and he walked around the corner to find the so named ‘sanctuary’ begin to reveal itself. However, when he could finally see into the room, he frowned in confusion.

For a sanctuary, it was an incredibly bare room. Sure there were shelves running along either side, and what looked like several pipes at the end – which actually made no sense whatsoever considering how much Sammy used to complain about all the ink – and sketches stuck to the walls, but other than a stray plank of wood, there was nothing. No personal belongings, no radio, no blank scores, no pens or pencils or ink… it just looked like a long, empty store room that someone had plonked a load of pulsing pipes in because they had nowhere else to put them.

Speaking of the pipes, Bendy noticed a wheel sticking out of them under a sign that read ‘Flow’. Going by the logic he’d faced so far, this was probably where the leak over Sammy’s office door was controlled. Seriously, who designed all of this?

There was also a bit of a puddle at the bottom of the pipe though, and the toon wasn’t sure he wanted another encounter with those black creatures from earlier, and he glared at it, poking it with the sharp end of the axe several times before deciding it was safe enough; for now at least. Stepping over the puddle, Bendy hesitantly set the axe down beside him and twisted the wheel with a bit of elbow grease, and, after a full rotation or two, the pipes fell still.

“ _Did that work?_ ” he wondered aloud, quick to pick the axe up again as he looked around, but still there were just the plain walls and empty shelves. Gulping back his fear, the toon stepped away from the pipes and back out towards the recording room.

… There hadn’t been that many ink puddles before.

Grip growing tight about the axe’s handle, he took another step forwards.

“ ** _My lord!_** ” a voice bubbled, and he spun to find one of those… things. It was reaching out towards him, even as another clawed it’s way out of another puddle.

“ ** _S-saviour!_** ”

“ ** _Save ussss!_** ”

“ ** _Pleassse!_** ”

Bendy shook his head, backing away. “ _Stay back!_ ” he cried. “ _Go… go away! I don’t want to hurt you!_ ”

Suddenly, a hand caught hold of the back of his coat, and he spun around to find one of the things had pulled it’s way out of the puddle by the pipes. “ ** _Our sssaviour!_** ” it cried, pulling at him, dragging him towards the puddle.

“ ** _He’s returned!_** ”

More hands. They were everywhere, clutching and clawing and pulling at him, and he started to slip into the puddles. “ _No,_ ” he muttered, his eyes going wide as he started to sink into the quicksand-like substance, thrashing and struggling against them before bringing his axe up to arms. “ _No no no no **no no NO!**_ ”

The creatures moaned and groaned as Bendy swung, eliminating some of their number as he struggled out of the puddles and onto dry land, continuing his fight until, once again, they had reverted to their liquid states and dissolved through the cracks in the floor. The toon gasped and huffed from the effort, looking himself over to make sure he was still whole, and sighed in relief when he found he hadn’t lost a limb to the ink.

It was in that moment of relief that he allowed his gaze to wander up, and he blinked in surprise at the figure stood in the projection booth. It wasn’t Henry – they were far to stable for it to be so, and he doubted the animator would ever wear a mask of Bendy’s face – but they looked familiar…

“ _S-Sammy?_ ” The figure didn’t react, didn’t move; they just stared down at him through unseen eyes. It was enough to make him shiver. Shifting nervously on his feet, the toon headed out of the room. “ _Wait right there! I’ll… I’ll come to you!_ ”

He wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not, but he was the first person he’d seen in a while. Perhaps he knew where Henry went. However, by the time he reached the projector, he was gone.

“ _What the-?_ ” Bendy spluttered, looking around himself in a useless spin before groaning once again, even as he still shook from the sudden appearance of those ink men. “ _What is with this place?_ ”

Deciding not to think about it too much, the toon turned back around to see what exactly his actions had caused – his axe poised and ready at all times and his eyes flitting everywhere for threats and possible friends – only to find the exit was still flooded. The pipes must be leading towards Sammy’s office then; another step in the right direction at least.

The trek there was, thankfully, rather uneventful, though every little sound along the way made him jump, and he soon entered through the previously blocked door. There was yet another lever situated directly before him labelled ‘Pump Control’, something that would be immensely useful, and Sammy’s desk was just off to the side with what looked like the blueprints of some sort of machine and one of his beloved radios. Other than that, the room was exceptionally empty.

Perhaps everyone had managed to clear this place out or something? It would certainly explain why everything looked so abandoned.

Deciding not to waste a single moment more, Bendy approached the lever and gave it a good, hard tug. When nothing became apparent immediately, the toon headed out of the room, checking around every corner, startling at his own shadow, and made his way back to the Exit. Surely that pump would have-

His head exploded into violent, sharp pain, stars buzzing in his eyes and static deafening in his ears as he collapsed face first to the floor, axe clattering to the ground as his fingers spasmed and went numb.

The last thing he knew was a voice whispering in his ear; “Rest your head; it’s time for bed.”


	8. The Prophet's Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bendy wakes in a precarious position...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who's left a review! They're all wonderful and appreciated beyond measure!

"Ah! My lord, at last you awaken."

Bendy groaned, blinking blearily at his surroundings as the back of his head throbbed. It was yet another plain room, and there were a small number of ink puddles in various positions across the floor. His - the - axe was leaning up against a thick pillar, and there were several barrels tucked next to pulsing pipes. It made his head spin. He made to pinch his nose to alleviate the ache between his eyes, but found, much to his growing horror, that they'd been bound behind his back.

"Oh no no, we can't have you  _leaving_. Not when I've only just found you."

Blinking again, the toon realised that there was a tall figure stood before him, their skin black as his own, wearing only trousers, ill-fitting braces, and a mask of Bendy's face. But his voice. He knew... " _Sammy?_ " he groaned. " _Issat you?_ "

The figure gasped and clasped it's hands in glee. "You remember me!" he exclaimed. "Oh, my lord, I am truly honoured that you would consider your prophet worth even a moment in your thoughts! This is truly a privilege."

Bendy frowned, tugging at the bindings once again. " _Sammy, what-?_ "

"Oh no no no!" the man interrupted, waving a finger at him. "You mustn't pull at those. We haven't even started yet!"

" _Started?_ " the toon repeated, a feeling of dread beginning to curdle his stomach. " _Started what?_ "

Sammy tilted his head in confusion as he leaned closer. "Why, to cure you, of course," he replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You are unwell, my lord. You've spent too much time in the presence of non-believers, heathens, and it has... affected you." He grasped his hands before him, his voice becoming more sombre. "You have forgotten the greatness from which you have fallen... but, I can help you. I can... remind you, and then, perhaps, you might reward this faithful prophet?"

" _... I'm not sick,_ " Bendy replied when he managed to wrap his head around the insanity the once composer had spouted. " _Sammy, you're not making any sense._ "

Sammy chuckled, stepping away. "Always the comedian, my lord. It pleases me that this is still true." He looked down at Bendy's tattered coat and winced. "It pains me to see you like this, my lord," he said, turning away to collect a large bucket that had been, until now, hidden from Bendy's view. "It is troubling that you cannot see what has happened, see the depths to which you have stooped. But it will all be made right soon, my lord. Your prophet will make it so."

He tipped the bucket, revealing the inky sludge inside, something thicker than just ink, closer to crude oil in texture, and it seemed to move on it's own, as though it held some form of sentience. Bendy squirmed, pulling against his bonds with wide eyes as the substance churned and bubbled, and Sammy brought the bucket higher, raising it above Bendy's head. ready to spill it over him. " _No, no no wait! Sammy, please!_ "

The man sighed, but refused to be moved. "This will be over soon. You will return to your-"

" **SAMMY!** "

The composer flinched, the oil-ink sloshing in the bucket as he moved to look over his shoulder, a large dollop escaping and splashing on Bendy's cheek.

He screamed, the substance burning at his flesh like acid, like fire, and his struggles against the bonds were renewed as it dribbled down his chin and neck. He was vaguely aware that something was happening, something bad, and there were more screams than just his own, but his thoughts could only focus on the sensation of part of his face dissolving. Suddenly, without warning, the bonds snapped, and the toon tumbled to the floor, squirming and twitching against the wood as it steadily ate him, his screams fading into moans.

But then he was being held, tenderly, softly, in careful arms, and he was moving. There was a voice, but beyond the pain he couldn't concentrate on anything.

" **-ld on B-... hel-... ink to...** "

Something splashed against him, cool and soothing, and he could only sigh in relief as the burning calmed to a numbed tingling, and he slowly, weakly, opened his eyes.

" _H-Henry?_ "

Splotches of ink dripped down from saturated hair, covering once bright and enthusiastic eyes in a thick curtain. Bendy tried to reach for his cheek, but he was weak, and could barely lift his arm to try. Henry smiled sadly down at him, hoisting him closer to his chest as they started moving again, the walls passing them by at a steady pace. " **I'll keep you safe,** " he said, squeezing at Bendy's hand. " **I won't let them get you.** "

Bendy hummed, resting his head against Henry's breast. Yes, here he was safe.


	9. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another awakening, only this time, it's to a pleasant surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been two months since I last updated this story, but Chapter 3 finally came out, and I've been working on so many different things... Anyways, here it is! I hope you all enjoy.

He'd awoken on a bed in a small, yet cozy room; a worn box in the corner, hammock hanging above it next to a bookshelf and a lamp, one of those strange Bendy clocks he had once seen the designs of, and a poster for Boris the Wolf hanging over the bed, with a great fan above. Something resembling fresh air was circulating through the room, giving him the chance to breathe for the first time since he'd entered the studio, and as he sat up, Bendy noticed a trail of wet floorboards leading out of the room.

But where was he? He didn't recognise this place. He couldn't even remember how he'd gotten here. The last thing he could recall was...

" _Henry._ "

That man - that gentle, kind, wonderful man - had retrieved him from the clutches of an insane Sammy, saved him from that... toxic black oil. But then his memory went blank. He'd been in Henry's arms, and the pain was easing - he touched at his cheek, only feeling his unmarred face beneath his fingertips - but then there was nothing. He must have fallen unconscious from the pain. He hoped he hadn't been out for long; he didn't want to be a burden on poor Henry.

Either way, it was time to get up and out of bed.

Heaving himself over the edge of the mattress, Bendy dropped down onto the floor, quickly pulling on his coat and scarf from where they'd been deposited on the box, and pocketing his gloves before he made his way out, following the wet path. There were still leaking pipes everywhere, dripping down onto the drenched floorboards below, and Bendy could just about make out the sight of a set of dungarees and polka dotted underwear hanging on a latticed metal fence. They looked... familiar, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly where he'd seen them before.

As he approached them, he looked briefly in through a doorway on his left into what seemed to be a bathroom with a cracked wall-length mirror, but he soon passed it and continued on up to the dungarees. Why would Henry have these sorts of clothes in his... home?

" **Bendy!** "

Speaking of.

Turning to the right- where Henry had called him from - Bendy opened his mouth to answer, but found his words stuck in his throat, eyes growing wide in disbelief. Henry was sat (mostly) at a table, a set of cards held in what must have been his hand, though it was difficult for the small toon to make out beyond the inky sludge that continued to stick to every piece of him. There was a faint smile curling at his lip, almost revealing his teeth for a light grin, but it wasn't him that had caught his attention. No, it was the figure sitting across from him, in all his dungareed glory.

" _B-B-Boris?_ " It was almost too much to hope for. And yet there he was, as tall as the day he'd left, his precious banjo sat beside him as he set his cards face down on the table, and nodded, ignoring the music as he turned his whole body to face Bendy completely. The dancing demon took several hesitant steps forwards, unsure if this was a trick, but when Henry gave him a nod of his own, he all but ran at his old friend, the tall wolf, coming down onto his knees to meet him half way as he flung himself into his chest.

Boris snuffled and whined slightly, rubbing his head and snout into Bendy's horns and cheek, making him laugh through the tears that were oozing down his cheeks. " _I missed you too buddy._ "

The wolf squeezed him close, almost pulling him onto his lap, and Bendy was all too happy to follow. He'd hated it once, thought it was something only children would do, and he wasn't a child, but, in the end, it turned out to be one of the things he'd missed the most.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that in the end, with Boris holding him and Bendy clutching back, but eventually, when he pulled back, he found Henry was now stood at the stove - one he had failed to notice before - and was carefully stirring something in a pot, moving away every time it looked like he was going to drip into it.

" **Let's get some grub in you,** " he said, giving Bendy another smile. " **It's only soup I'm afraid, but it's better than nothing. And we wouldn't want you continuing on an empty stomach.** "

Boris shook his head in agreement, and patted Bendy's head. Chuckling, the small toon nodded in agreement and patted his belly. " _Bacon soup will do me just fine._ "

The others smiled back at him, and Boris rose to clear the cards away from the table and collect some bowls from the shelves behind him. As he watched, Bendy could recall a time when they'd all gone out for a picnic - Henry's treat - when the sun was shining, the grass was green and the birds were singing. There had been soup then as well, kept in a thermos flask, and sandwiches and apples and cakes, and it had been a wonderful day. It was almost the same as it had been that day, except...

" _Where's Alice?_ "

The others paused, Boris quickly returning to his task however, while Henry sighed and stepped away from the stove. " **I'll tell you after dinner.** "

... That didn't bode well.


	10. Unanswerable Questions

" _... Gone?_ " Bendy croaked. " _Wh-wha'd'ya mean 'gone'? She... she didn't just vanish, did she?_ "

Henry sighed, clutching at his hands and glancing over at Boris, who had now filled the bowls of soup and was setting them on the table. " **This place... it's changed since you... since you were here,** " he explained. " **It's become a maze - a labyrinth - and there's so many places you could get lost. Alice... she must have gotten lost, or run into... She's just gone, Bendy.** "

" _Run into who?_ " Bendy asked, confused by these non-answers and wanting at least _something_ to go on, but Boris started whining, curling over his bowl in a look of panic and upset, causing any other question he might have asked to fly from his thoughts as he brought his hand up to rub at the poor wolf's arm. " _I'm sorry. I didn't mean t' upset ya._ "

Boris looked over at him, and put his arm about the little toon's shoulders, giving him a light squeeze in reply.

" **It's good you're asking,** " Henry said, moving to collect one of the bowls. " **We might not be able to answer much, but you should keep asking. Maybe you'll find something we missed.** "

Bendy looked up at him, trying to see past the ink that his Henry's eyes, and clutched at Boris's dungarees. " _What happened to ya Henry?_ "

" **... Too much.** "

An uncomfortable, and somewhat depressing, silence fell over them for the next few minutes. They all ate their soup, listening to the jaunty music from the radio and the droplets of ink splatter on the floor, and Bendy couldn't help but be reminded of the times he had once queued up in the soup line in the rain, just as desperate as everyone else there, just as wet, just as downtrodden, all of them sharing a pain from the same thing, and yet none of them uttering a word as the sky poured down on them. When the meal was done, Henry collected the bowls and wandered towards the bathroom, probably to deposit them in one of the sinks, but while he was gone, Bendy took the chance to ask a few more questions.

" _How long's he bin like this?_ " he whispered.

Boris stared back at him at first, but then shook his head and shrugged.

" _Ya don't know?_ "

He nodded.

" _What happened? Did he... did he get lost?_ "

Another long stare, this time followed by a nod.

Bendy released a shaky breath. Whatever had happened to Henry was horrible, unforgivable; he didn't want to think about what could have, could  _be_ , happening to Alice. Who was doing all of this? Was it... was it Joey? Was he the cause of this nightmare? If he was, Bendy wasn't sure he wanted to see him, and yet it made him want to see him more, to find the answers no one seemed to have. It was maddening, not knowing, and this quest was no doubt leading his somewhere he didn't want to go.

" **We should get you out of here,** " Henry said, having approached while the little toon had been in thought. " **The way back is a bit blocked though, so we'll have to find another route for you to take. I think there might be an elevator or something a little further in...** "

Bendy frowned. " _What Joey need an elevator for?_ " he asked. The Studio wasn't  _that_ big, was it? Apparently it was, as both Boris and Henry just gave him a sorrowful look. " _Where's my axe?_ " he asked instead, noticing it's disappearance. " _I think I saw it in that place with Sammy..._ " Oh God, Sammy. Had what had happened with Henry happened to him too? He didn't even want to think about what he'd been trying to do; it was too much to even consider.

Henry sighed. " **I had to leave it behind,** " he explained. " **I'm sorry.** "

Bendy swallowed. That... that had been his only weapon, his only way to defend himself. Those creatures out there, they were still after him, and if he didn't have his axe...

" **Hey, Bendy. Bendy! Calm down. We'll find you something else.** "

He blinked, suddenly noticing that he was shaking and wrapped his arms around his chest to try and make it stop. " _Yeah._ "

Henry sighed, and rested one of his inky, oily hands on his head and smiled down at him. " **We'll be right there with you,** " he said, prompting Boris to nod in agreement. " **You don't have to go through any of this alone, alright?** "

Slowly, Bendy nodded in response, then pressed forwards, curling his arms as far as he could around Henry's middle. " _Thank you._ "

" **You're welcome,** " came the reply, and Bendy could just about feel large hands resting against back through the sludge. " **Now, let's get moving yeah? Boris, where's that lever?** "

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to you all for reading this! I hope you enjoyed and please leave a comment if you can - it makes my day every time I read one, no matter how short.


End file.
